


To be a Strider

by Errorcode254



Series: To Be A Strider [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bro homestuck, Dave/bro - feelings, F/M, Fem!Dave, Guilt, Incest, Masturbation, Sibling Incest, Strider - Freeform, Stridercest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:23:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Errorcode254/pseuds/Errorcode254
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave is attracted to her brother and will try pretty damn hard to make him want her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your name is Dave Strider, and yes. You are a girl. You used to wonder why you'd been given a male name. Turns out, your bro just didn't have the presence of mind to check for a penis before he named you. When he realised, the name stuck. 'Irony', he'd said. Honestly though, you've never minded your name. You actually like it. Not that it's a huge secret. You idolize your bro. Always have. It's no real surprise that you'd like the name he gave you. Besides, the looks you got from your teachers when you enrolled in your new school were definitely worth it. 

You changed school about a week ago, moving to one that was closer to the apartment. The teachers were shocked by you. Needless to say, you were not what they expected. You always did like to watch reactions as people heard your name, smirking at their obvious discomfort. Of course, there were always the tools that decided to take it upon themselves to educate you on your name. Unfortunately, there were a few of them at your new school. Which is why you are on your way home, adjusting your clothes to cover the bruises so that Bro won't notice as soon as you step through the door. But, no matter how you well you hide them, he can always tell. Probably because he's Bro. 

You've taken one step into the apartment. One step. And he wasn't even facing you. But, sure enough, The bastard turned and stopped you, his eyes already flicking over the hidden bruises like he had a map of them. Seriously. How did the fucker even know they were there? You raise an eyebrow at him in silent challenge, daring him to say something. You love him, sure, but that doesn't mean you'll back down. That would be totally uncool. He smirks and you roll your eyes in response, moving on to your bedroom. 

Even your bedroom lacks femininity. You have exactly one mirror, attached to your wardrobe. Your bed sits in the middle of the room, the head pushed against the wall. Your desk and turntables are lined against the opposite wall, taking up an obscene amount of space. And, honestly, you don't even own a fucking dress or makeup. Who needs that girly shit anyway?

You move to look in the mirror as you change into something cooler. And no. You don't consider the short shorts you choose to be girly. They're just practical. Besides, legs like yours should be put on display. You change poses, happily checking yourself out. That is, until you notice the large purple bruise on your thigh. God damn it! Well, it doesn't really matter now. Bro already figured out that you were hurt. You might as well be comfortable, right? You shrug and throw a tank top on, smirking at the smaller bruises scattered over your chest and arms. Those fuckers didn't even know who they were messing with. 

You glance in the direction that you threw your bag when you entered your room, considering the homework you have. Eh. Glancing counts as making an effort, you figure. You head out to the lounge room and plop down on the couch that you've had forever. Before you've even grabbed the remote, Bro is beside you, flicking through programs. Fucking flash-step. Seriously? You audibly groan when he settles on 'My Little Ponies'. He's either being ironic, or trying to torture you. Either way, this shit just isn't cool. 

You throw your head back in irritation, eyes closed behind your rad shades. One opens when you hear him speak and.. Oh god. He's asking about your bruises. Sighing, you turn to face him. You look at him, trying to work out why he's asking this time, rather than doing his usual thing and ignoring it. Hell, they're no worse than the bruises he's left on you when you strife. 

You frown at him, confused. Is he honestly curious, or does he just want to be sure that you gave them hell? Oh, of course that's it. You curse yourself silently as you settle his mind, assuring him that they went home with more reminders than you did. He seems to be happy with your response, because he nods and turns back to the TV. Well, of course he was happy about it. He's just being a good brother. And brothers and sisters shouldn't think about each other the way you think about him. 

Yeah. You know it's unhealthy, wrong, and pretty much everything else. And it's not like you are attracted to him on purpose. You tried to be normal. You even dated other guys. But, for some reason, your mind always wandered back to bro. Maybe it was his hair, styled and squashed by his hat. His hands, mostly covered by the finger-less gloves he never took off. The way his jeans fit on his toned legs..

Oh God. 

You've been staring at him. Please don't let him notice. You were practically drooling. Great. Just what every guy wants. His fucked up little sister drooling all over him. Well done Dave. Welp. Time to dig a hole and bury yourself in shame. You throw a silent thanks to the universe that you can hide behind your shades, but you can still feel the blush building on your cheeks. So uncool.

Nope. You need to get out of there. You get up, cringing when it occurs to you that you moved faster than necessary. At least you could blame the cringe on the injuries, you suppose. Back to your room with a mumbled excuse of 'homework'. 

You shut the door and lean back against it, relieved to be in the safety of your bedroom. Pushing away from the door, you propel yourself to the side of the bed and let your body fall against the mattress. You sigh and grasp your tank top in frustration with yourself. Seriously. Get yourself under control. Your fingers brush over your flat stomach, sending shivers over you. Maybe if you just quench the need, you won't be so obsessed.

You let your fingers move lower, sliding beneath your short shorts. You rub them slowly over your panties, teasing yourself as you let your mind play over some of your favourite porno's. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your panties now damp against your fingers. You pull away, annoyed at the loss of contact as you tear off your shorts and panties. Your fingers make their way back to your core and you rub yourself again. 

In your mind, a scene is playing out. You're on your knees, a hunk in front of you. His hands are in your hair, forcing you to come closer. You take him into your mouth and he bucks his hips forward, shoving himself deeper. You look up at him. Your eyes taking their time as you take in every muscle and plane of his body. Finally, you reach his face. And holy hell. That's Bro. 

No. Just, no. You tear your eyes open, panting. Your hand has already stopped moving. God. You hope you didn't say his name. What the hell is wrong with you? You curse out loud and grab your towel. It's about time you fucking cooled off.


	2. ==> Be the confused guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. To be continued, I guess?

You are now the confused guy. 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and holy hell. What was that about? You've been sitting on the couch for about half an hour (you could be exaggerating), trying to figure out what just happened. Not only did she just stomp of to her bedroom, but you're pretty sure that you heard your name. And, crap. Her door is opening. You raise an eyebrow as she storms out, but, oh god. Why is she not wearing pants? Bloody hell. Like you needed that right now. 

You knew she was hurt the moment she walked into the apartment. You just had a sense about that with her. Something about how she held herself. You'd been the cause of it so often that you knew the signs. Your eyes had roamed, taking note of all the places she seemed hurt. You couldn't help but smirk when she challenged you; her eyebrow arching upward in a way that only she could manage. You let her push past you, chuckling when she was out of earshot. 

Next thing you know, you're flash-stepping into the loungeroom to grab the remote before she can. You've already starting flicking through channels before you'd even sat beside her. You feel her shift and you stretch out, taking more room than necessary so that she'll pay attention to you. You even put on My Little Ponies, just to see her reaction (and damn, she better pay attention, cause this is a great episode). You deadpan as she groans and throws her head back. Seriously, could she be a bigger brat about it? That's when you look at her. Ok, you know it's hot and all, but did she have to wear those shor- Your eyes zero in on the large bruise on her leg. 

“So. You wanna tell me about those bruises?”

Yeah. You'd intended to ask her about them, but that just caught you off guard. Your eyes move over her upper body slowly. Jesus. She has really grown up. Her stomach is flat and softly dipped. You can see a line of skin peeking out between her tanktop and pants. Her top is pulled down slightly, revealing the start of her cleavage. Wait. Damn it. No. You're meant to be looking at bruises. And why hasn't she answered yet? You look up to her face quickly, and shit, she's been looking at you. Why the hell did you even bring this up? Did she notice that you'd been ogling her? Fuck. 

You could have yelled in triumph when she finally responded with a story about the bruises she'd given the ones responsible. Thank god. She must not have noticed. Or simply thought you were putting emphasis on your question. You just nod in response and look back to the TV, not really watching it, just hoping that was the end of the conversation. You started it, sure, but that was before you perved on your little sister. Fuck. Dude. Dave is your sister. 

Jesus. If it wasn't for the fact that she just jumped up like she'd been bitten by a fucking spider, you would have left, yourself. Shit. She knew you were checking her out and you've made her uncomfortable. That much was obvious by her mumbled “I gotta go do homework, Bro”.

Which leaves you exactly where you are. Watching her leave her bedroom, naked from the waist down. And oh god. She fucking noticed you looking. Shit. Fuck. You see her cringe and dart back into her room. Now it's time to start using your head. The one that isn't currently filling with blood. Jesus fucking christ. You really are sporting wood now. You flash-step into your bedroom just as she's coming back out of hers. Her towel is slung over her shoulder. You didn't even notice it before. And here come the mental images. No. You don't want to think about Dave naked, with water cascading down her body. Gah!

You busy yourself with ordering dinner, (pizza) then open up Pesterchum. You chat for a while with a couple of people before logging off to answer the door. With the pizza set on the table, you grab a few pieces and head to your room. You know you have to talk to Dave about it. Make it clear that you didn't mean to make her uncomfortable, and you definitely wouldn't look at her like that again. You'll even stay out of her way to avoid it if you have to. Yeah, you know that you need to talk to her, but you don't need to talk to her tonight. You'll do it tomorrow. Clearer heads, and all.

 

You wake up, sweating and uncomfortable. Your body feels like you didn't sleep at all. You shuffle out to the kitchen in your pjs (which is pretty much just a pair of whatever pants you pulled on the night before) and set about making yourself a coffee. You're halfway through your drink when Dave walks in to join you. She doesn't look her night was much better than yours, and worse. She's jumpy and obviously nervous around you. Shit. You sigh. This has to be dealt with. Soon. With your coffee finished, you mumble a quick “Good morning” and head to your room to change and prepare yourself for this talk. 

You head to Daves room, having scoped out the rest of the apartment first, and knock on the door. You wouldn't normally knock, but given the circumstances, you suppose you should. Slowly, you push her bedroom door open and peek in. Well, thank whatever deity that's responsible for that. Dave is completely dressed and listening to her ipod. The only bad thing about this is that she's lounging on her bed. Well fuck. There are those thought again. You reach over and tap her shoulder, and damn. She nearly jumped out of her skin. You motion for her to move over, then sit on the side of her bed, next to her legs. 

“Look, Dave.” You begin, stopping suddenly, because shit. How do you even start this. Hi, Dave, so I was checking you out last night. But don't worry. I won't touch you. Yeah. That would go over so well. How are you even supposed to do this? You sigh. Time to man up and get this over with. 

“We need to talk.”


	3. Be the awkward teen

You are now the awkward teen. And wow. When you say awkward, you mean it. You'd been laying on your bed, listening to sick beats and trying to forget about your bro for one lousy minute. Suddenly, who should be tapping your shoulder for attention but the guy you've been trying to avoid. As if you really want to see him right now. After making a fool of yourself, then walking out practically naked, you really don't need this chance to embarrass yourself again. 

You are Dave Strider and your way-too-attractive brother is sitting on your bed. He's so close, and god, you could reach out and touch him. You don't though. Like you want to have to explain that. His hair is styled, as usual, but his hat is gone for once. Well. He's obviously here for a reason. Something in your stomach flips as you consider the possibilities, only dropping with dread when it occurs to you what he must be here for. Your crush. Fuck. You hoped you'd never have to do this. That he wouldn't notice, or would at least not say a fucking thing. What are you supposed to do? When you look at his face, you just feel naked. Crap. Your shades are sitting beside you. You can't put them on now. That would be useless. Ah, Princess. Time to suck it up and deal with this like.. well.. a girl.

“Look, Dave.”

He stopped. Why did he stop? Your eyes search his face. He's not looking at you, but you refuse to let your gaze wander. Oh god. He's still not talking. He's wearing his shades so you can't even see what is going on. This is taking forever and it's getting harder to keep looking at his face. He still hasn't looked at you and what the hell is going on?

“We need to talk.”

Oh thank god. Wait. No. Why does this need to happen? You don't want to talk. You just want to go on and pretend like it never happened. How do you even explain what was going through your head when you walked out of your room without your pants? This is bad. People aren't supposed to want their brothers. They definitely weren't supposed to talk about it. Your attention moved to his lips. They look soft. He licks them, your eyes savouring the action. God. To have that tongue used on you. No. Shit. Where did that thought even come from? You can feel heat touch your cheeks and you look back up at his shades to distract yourself. Your hands are twisting at your top (a long sleeved tee this time) in agitation. Your Bro looks nervous and uneasy being here. And shit. Has he been talking all this time?

“...And I'm sorry if it made it difficult to be near me.”

Yeah... He's finished saying whatever he needed to say and you only heard part of the last sentence. Well done Dave. Gold star. Now, you can either admit that you weren't listening, or just talk and hope that you don't repeat everything he said. If you admit you weren't listening, he'll want an explanation. Looks like you're talking. You take a breath and look away from him. 

“It's not difficult to be around you, Bro. I've just been going through some stuff. And there's this guy.. And I didn't mean to.. I'm really sorry about last night. I just forgot, I guess. I don't even know..”

Shit. Maybe you should have just admitted that you weren't listening. You blush (so uncool) and wait for a response, but he just seems to be more tense. Maybe you should have lied and told him that it wasn't him. Oh well. You can't exactly backtrack now. He just seems to look you over from behind his shades (at least, you assume he is, you can't see his eyes to be sure), and you squirm under his gaze. He looks up at your face, nodding, and you really should start paying attention to him because you don't catch anything he says next. He pats your leg softly, then gets up to leave. Something in your stomach flips again when he touches you and you can't help but look up at his face and say it. 

“Hey Bro? I love you.”

He smiles and leaves, shutting the door behind him. You make your way over and lean on it, grinning happily when you hear him reply with a whispered “I love you too, Dave”. You sink to the ground, your back still against the door. Yeah, he probably meant it in a different way, but for a while, you pretend that he loves you back. You're just a normal girl in love with a guy. Nothing wrong with that. Right?

Your mind fills in all the blanks and you sit there, mulling over possibilities. You wonder for a moment about what he looks like naked. Oh jeez. That pulls you out of your thoughts, your face hot with embarrassment. He's not around, and obviously can't know about it, but you still feel dirty, like he'll know the moment he looked at you. 

God. What should you even do about this? Even if you weren't related, and he was interested, you're a virgin. You've barely even been kissed. Well, kissed in a way that counts. Once, before you shifted schools, you kissed a boy. Yeah, yeah. How can that not count? To anyone but you, it would count. Except that you couldn't stand it. His lips were dry against yours and he bit you. Hard. Your mind moved back to Bros lips. How would they feel against yours? Gentle, you decide, and forgiving of any mistakes you might make. His hand would run through your long blonde hair and hold your head at the perfect angle for his kiss to deepen. His tongue would touch your lips briefly, then push into your mouth. Oh god. You'd be able to taste him. 

Shit. 

You'd been thinking about him again. What the hell is wrong with you? You have to stop thinking about Bro like that. He raised you. He might as well be your dad. Why the hell does that excite you more? Hell. You're more fucked up than you thought. What kind of creep gets excited by thinking of someone as their dad? Vaguely, you wonder what Bro would do if you called him Daddy. A smile crosses your face as you imagine him freaking out.


	4. ==. Do the thing that must be done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's short, people.

You spot her as soon as you enter the room, your body tensing before you even look at her. Your eyes sweep around the room before settling on her. She's curled up on your bed. What the shit is she doing there? Your blanket is entwined with her body, wrapped around one of her shapely legs and clutched to her chest. Her hair is splayed over your pillow and your fingers itch to touch her. She's wearing those shorts again. Oh god. They cover even less tonight. Your eyes move over her body and drink in every detail. Her pyjama shirt is just a singlet, pushed up and gathered above her belly. 

You can't help but move toward her. Just seeing her there in your bed.. your hands move on their own, twisting the bottom of your shirt as you drag it over your head. It's your room. You are allowed to take your shirt off when you're in here. She turns her head slightly and watches you. God. You've wanted this so much. Your knees are pressed against the edge of the bed. Nnng. She's so close. You don't even stop yourself from touching her. Why bother? What has not touching gotten you? She's here, in your bed. You can't quiet the need. Your hand reaches forward. Your fingers brush her calf. She watches you, practically daring you to keep going. Your breath catches and you feel your heartbeat speed up when your hand moves further up her leg. 

You climb upon to the bed, nudging her with your knee as you kneel next to her. You lean closer, you hand travelling over her body. Her top moves with hand, gathering higher until it sits under her breasts. They seem bigger, but you figure that's because you're finally touching them. And oh god. Your hand is on Daves boob. You snatch it away, and wow. That's the dumbest thing you've done all night.

Wait. No. The _smartest_. Dave is your sister. 

Fuck. She's pouting up at you, reaching for you. You groan. God. You can't do this. You're still telling yourself to leave the room as your mouth descends on hers. Your lips brush over hers and shit. Was there ever a better feeling? No. No. This is wrong. It's a bad feeling. You swear. So why can't you stop? You're tongue hasn't moved and she's opening for you. Her lips part against yours, and yeah. This now wins for the best feeling in the world. You're tongue moves past her lips hesitantly, moving with hers. 

Your pants are uncomfortably tight by the time Dave finally touches you. Her hands move over your chest with unease. Your hand tugs on her top, pulling it off to bare her chest. Oh gods. Your mouth finds her again as you palm her breast. You swallow each sound she makes when your fingers flick over her nipple. God. Her sweet little noises more than make up for her inexperience. Like porn for your ears. Your hand moves down to her pants as she opens yours and slides a small hand inside your jeans. 

Fucking hell. She's touching you. Your sister is running her hand over your boxers. You twitch when she wraps her hand around your still covered length. And oh. What is she doing?

You groan.


	5. Bro: Be grumpy

You groan and roll over. Your blanket was kicked off at some point and you’re certain that you were having a good dream. Hell, if the pain between your legs is any indication, it was a great fucking dream.

“Bro..”

You hear knocking at the door and your dream comes crashing back to you. To make things worse, Dave is standing outside your door, calling for you. It’s probably what woke you in the first place. You sigh and throw your arm over your eyes. What fucking time is it? You can’t handle this. How can you even look at her after that dream? You groan again.

“Jesus christ, Dave. What fucking time is it? I’m trying to sleep here.”

Next thing you know, your bedroom door is being swung open and there’s something heavy on your feet. Oh hell. Your sanity tells you to keep your eyes closed. Shit. You open them warily and watch her from where you lay, shifting slightly to hide your (still painful) erection. She’s sitting on the end of your bed, her weight pressing against your toes as she shifts nervously.

Well, shit. You sit up awkwardly and watch your sister, trying not to notice things about her while she’s in your bed. This proves to be nearly impossible, especially after the dream you’re still recovering from. She looks confused and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her look so vulnerable. You give her a small smile and open up your arms, even as your mind screams that it’s a bad idea. You may not be feeling very brotherly right now, but she needs you. As soon as she moves to sit in your embrace, you’re overtaken by so many things.

You try to just look straight ahead and forget that she’s there, but god. She’s cuddled up to you and she feels so good in your arms. Your hand moves over her back and she shudders. No. That wasn’t a shudder. Oh shit. Fuck. She’s sobbing. She is actually fucking sobbing. She needs you. She’s upset and she needs you and you were actually about to let yourself touch her. Some fucking brother you are. Your hand stills and you pull her closer. To comfort her. Not for any other reason. At least it doesn’t seem to upset her more. You don’t say anything, just lay there with her in your arms.

You open your eyes and cringe at the pain in your shoulder when you try to move it. It feels heavier that it should. Why? You glance over at it. Oh fuck. How the..? Why is Dave in your bed? Your mind goes back over the night, recollecting everything that happened. You only relax when everything is clear in your mind. You must have fallen asleep again when she’d curled up with you. You sink into the bed again and sigh. You’re going to have to wake her up. Normally, you’d be fine with letting her sleep, but she’s laying on your arm, you’ve got morning wood (again), you need to take a leak, and a shower sounds pretty fucking awesome right now.

You reach to nudge Dave awake, the action causing her to burrow closer to you, draping a leg over your lower body. Fuck. No. Shit. You curse silently and you can feel her stiffen and freeze. And shiiiiiit! She has her leg over your groin (thank god for loose pants), the slightest movement and you just know that your cock is going to twitch. What the fuck were you thinking when you let her climb into your bed like she was three? Definitely not the best decision you ever made.

She’s made the move for you, mumbling an apology for annoying you then taking off to her bedroom. Oh hell. Looks like it’s time for another Strider Family Talk. It’s almost useless though. You’re pretty certain that she didn’t pay attention to the last one. You’d pussied out and rambled about the latest shipment of smuppets you had to send, then apologised for the sudden increase of the plush population in the apartment and for making it difficult to be around with that. Yep. You’re the bravest guy ever. But after that, she blabbered about her lack of pants the day before (like you’d needed the reminder, it was burned into your brain), and brought all those memories back. God you’re a creep.

You sigh and grab your towel. You wanted a shower, and you might as well kill two birds with one stone. With Dave locked in her room, you don’t even try to hide your boner as you walk to the bathroom.


	6. ==> Dave: Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [==> [Fun facts: Daves Dream]](http://nopethefuckout.tumblr.com/post/58212996730/fun-facts-daves-dream)

Yeah. That’s pretty much exactly what you’re doing.

You were shaken awake. The main thing you remember is how warm and comfortable you were. On instinct, to get away from whatever was trying to tear you from the best sleep you’d had in weeks, you nuzzled closer to the source of the warmth. Your head was enveloped in darkness again and you even threw your leg over the blankets beside you. Mmm. For once, you didn’t dream. Or, you don’t remember it, at least. You’re warm and happy in your bed and it has the nicest smell this morning. That’s when you stop burrowing into the warmth next to you. Your bed smells like Bro. Manly. Yummy. Wait. No. Not yummy. Never - oh hell. Who are you even kidding any more? You didn’t want to freeze when you realised that it smelled like bro. You wanted to kiss every inch of anything that carried his scent. And you’d been just about to. Then it all came flooding back. The dream that took you to Bros room, just to make sure he was still there. You, falling asleep in Bros arms.

You got out of there as soon as you could and came to hide out in your room. You fell asleep in Bros arms. You would have been proud if it weren’t so pathetic. God. You’d even cried. No way in hell he’ll ever see you as anything other than his bratty little sister now. Great job. Might as well invest in a few cats for your life as an old maid. Not that you can’t get laid. No fucking way. You’re hot as hell and guys are frothing at the mouth to even look at you. Ok. That might be a slight exaggeration but not by much. Seriously, you’re hot. No. You can get laid. You just don’t want anyone but him.

You can hear the bathroom door close. Well at least you can come out of hiding for a while. Bros showers always took forever. You often wondered how his could last longer than yours. After all, aren’t girls supposed to take forever in the bathroom? You glance over to where your school bag is still sitting from Friday. You should probably get around to doing your homework, but maybe detention would be worth it. You’d be able to stay away from home for longer and avoid Bro. Sounds like it’s decided. No homework for you. A grin lights up your face as you make your way to the kitchen. Might as well have lunch while he’s occupied.

Your ipod is tucked into your bra from where you grabbed it on the way out of your room, and your music is blasting again. With your shades on, you feel pretty untouchable and back to normal. You’re even dancing around the kitchen as you pour yourself some AJ. As usual, there’s no food in the house. Ah, hell. You’re going to have to talk to him again after all.

You stand at the bathroom door, listening to him. Uhm, Dave? Why are you listening at the bathroom door? How often do you even do this? You hear him groan quietly and you make a face. Jesus. Bro really fucking likes his showers. And now that noise is going to haunt you. You must be a masochist. You really seem to enjoy torturing yourself. You knock on the door and call out. Uhh. Bad idea. He’s making more sounds. It’s just like him to try and creep you out. Would he still do it if he knew what the sound actually did to you? Yeah.. You’ll just wait till he gets out of the shower.

Which proves to take longer than usual. You wonder briefly if that was because you were in his bed. Fuck. Nope. You shouldn’t have thought that. Now all you can think about is how close you were to Bro. Your body feels hot and you really don’t want to be thinking these things with Bro walking around the house. You’re a mess. Well, at least you have school tomorrow. Six hours without him. Somehow, that doesn’t feel like a good thing.

Your stomach grumbles. Oh. Right. You go to stand outside Bros room, waiting for him to come out.. For once, he doesn’t take long. He hasn’t had his coffee yet, so he comes out pretty quickly. You smile sweetly at him from behind your shades. You think you see him cringe and your smile falls from your face. Well fuck him, too. You grunt out your need for food and get out of his sight as soon as possible.

You curl up in a ball on your bed, refusing to let yourself cry, especially after the incident this morning. He actually looked at you like he didn’t want to see your face. Like you weren’t welcome near him. Well, maybe you’d grant him his wish. Avoiding him couldn’t be too hard. He’s never awake when you leave for school so you would just have to keep yourself in the afternoon. Yeah. This was possible. You never know. It might actually help you too.


	7. ==> Bro: Kill two birds with one stone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to my Moirail.

You close the bathroom door and turn the shower on, letting the water heat up before you get in. Your hands grip the bathroom sink tightly. You run your hand through your hair. You might as well do something about the pain between your legs. You can feel bad about yourself later. You lower your hands to the waistband of your pants. Your thumb slips under the band and you close your eyes. You can't even look at yourself right now. Turning, you let your pants fall to the floor and move to stand under the spray of the shower. Your hand moves over your chest and abs, spreading the droplets of water racing over your skin. 

You hate yourself but you can't stop. You need to do this. Your hand moves lower, taking your length gently in its grip. A sharp breath is hissed through clenched teeth when you touch yourself. Your hand moves, stroking your hardness and causing a groan to escape you. You hear her voice in your mind and everything changes. She's in front of you. Touching you. Her hand covers yours on your cock, then takes over completely. She looks so small next to you and you're overtaken by the desire to protect and destroy her at the same time. To make her yours. God. You lean against the wall of the shower, the cool tiles biting against your back. The water is running down your sensitized body, making you shiver.

You hear her voice calling for you again. She sounds closer this time. She even sounds like she needs you. God. You can see her looking up at you, her shades gone, red eyes filled with desire. Her gaze meets yours and she drops to her knees. You let out a muffled moan as your hand pumps you faster. She's watching your face as she leans forward, her lips pressing on the head of your cock in a quick kiss. Her tongue sweeps over it, tasting you. Shit. She's looking up at you with your cock in her mouth and it's almost more than you can stand. 

Your grip tightens a little around your length in the same way you imagine hers would, squeezing slightly as you continue to stroke yourself. You feel pressure building up in your lower stomach as you pleasure yourself. You shudder. How can this be wrong if it feels so good? Your heart is pounding, your body getting hotter even as the water starts to run cold. You're panting, your breath coming faster as you get closer to climax. 

Dave is kneeling before you, your cock enclosed in her mouth. Her eyes stay trained on your face, and you're pretty sure red is your favourite colour now. The look in her eyes. She's pure innocence, even as you thrust into her mouth. God. You need to do something. Claim her. Mark her as yours. She changes again and now she's covered in marks from your bites, and hell. She's never looked prettier. She's yours now. You pull from her face as you climax, your seed pumping over your stomach and her chest. 

Oh shit. You actually just jerked off over your sister. You look down at yourself. The cold water from the shower is washing away the evidence. You scrub a hand down your face. Fuck. The things you wanted to do to her.. the things you wanted her to do to you. It's pretty safe to say that you hate yourself right now. What's worse, you still want to see her like that . Covered in your marks. You clean yourself and get out of the shower, turning your head so that you don't have to see yourself in the mirror. 

You escape to your bedroom and get dressed, surrounded by a cloud of shame. You're feeling a little better when you leave your room. Until you almost walk into her. Dave. Standing outside your door. She's looking at you expectantly. Her shades cover her eyes and you silently thank anyone that will listen. Suddenly, she's smiling at you. She's all sweetness and purity and shit. You want her. You cringe at ferocity of your need. How can you still want her after everything you just did? She grunts something at you and you barely even hear it. You're too busy looking at her. You could die when you see her face. The smile's gone and she looks like you took her favourite toy away. At that moment, you'd do anything to make her smile at you again. To have her look at you like you were the greatest person in the world, especially now. When she looked at you, smiling like that, you felt like you could do no wrong. Hers was the only opinion that mattered. 

She took off to her bedroom and left you watching her. Her hips sway as she walks away. You bite your lip and head to the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. Well.. You have to make it up to her. Coffee in hand, you walk over and bang on Daves door.

“Dave. Put something nice on. We're going out.”


	8. ==> Dave: Get dressed

“..Put something nice on. We’re going out.”

 

Wait. What? Since when does Bro take you anywhere? You do everything to stop yourself from squealing and take off in the direction of the wardrobe. Shit. Now you really wish you had some fucking dresses. You groan and complain about your lack of good clothes, even while you sort through your closet. You decide on a low cut top and tight fitting jeans, finished off with your usual sneakers. Spinning in front of the mirror, you check yourself out. It’ll do. It really is the best it’s going to get. You shrug and open your door. Fuck. You didn’t expect him to be right outside. Your arms spread out and you watch his face for a reaction.

“Well? What do you think, Bro? This nice enough for you?”

From what you can see, he has no reaction, making you wish you had a skirt and heels to wear. You glance over your shades, up at his face. He really is beautiful. The light hits him in all the right places, shadows playing over his face perfectly. You shrug a little and push past him, trying not care about him or his opinion of your outfit. 

“You.. uh.. You look good.”

HA! You almost want to throw your fist up in the air in success. Your chest warms up and excitement is bubbling. You’ve not only almost forgotten about being upset with him, but you’ve definitely forgiven him. Even if he wasn’t taking you out, that statement would have been enough. Your heart practically melted. You would have fallen in love with him if you weren’t already. 

You’re standing by the door to the apartment when you turn to look back at him, and what the hell? He’s standing there, at your bedroom, watching you. He did say you were going out, right? God. You hope so. It’d be fucking humiliating if you got dressed up for nothing. You reach up and lower your shades to emphasize your point (you actually have no idea what point you were trying to emphasize. Maybe you were just making a point?). You stare right at his face, trying your hardest to look impatient. You see him stiffen and you roll your eyes dramatically before pushing your shades back up. 

“We going or what, Bro?”

You see him lift his cup and drain the last of the liquid before grabbing his phone and wallet. With his belongings safely in his pocket, he follows you out the door. You can almost feel him walking behind you. The heat from his body radiating from him in waves. You climb into his old pick-up and wait for him, watching as he makes his way to the other side. 

You were quiet on the trip, sitting across from your Bro now, awkwardly. What are you supposed to do? You pick at your food, nerves destroying any appetite you had. It doesn’t make sense. You’re alone with him almost constantly, but here, you feel nervous and out of place. Bro doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, eating his food enthusiastically. Even shoveling his face, he’s so beautiful. You move the food around your plate, just watching him. When you realize how long you’ve been obsessing over him, you excuse yourself from the table. He barely even acknowledges you when you leave and you would have been hurt if you weren’t so relieved. 

You hide out in the bathroom, calming yourself down. After a while, you figure you should head back to the table. By now, your food is probably cold (not that you were going to eat it) and Bro must have noticed that you’ve been gone for longer than necessary. You step out into the narrow hallway, caught in a jumble of thoughts. It’s no wonder, really, that you don’t see the figure in front of you. Not until you’ve already collided with them. The hallway is narrow enough that you would have had to turn sideways slightly to avoid hitting him. You bounce back and look up, mumbling an apology before you even see the guy. He towers over you, and what the hell? Why is he coming toward you? You back away from him, stopping when your back hits the wall. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Dave?”

You slump at the sound of his voice, too relieved to even care what it must have looked like to him. You don’t even think about it until it’s too late. You’ve jumped forward, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss. The fucking surprising thing is what he does, though. His hands move, gripping your hips and pulling you closer. What. The. Fuck?

You must freeze in shock at his reaction, because now he’s pulling away from you. Wait. No. You don’t want him to pull away. You want his lips back on yours. For longer this time. You won’t freeze if you know it’s coming. He’s walking away, leaving you alone in the hallway to try and work out what just happened. You can’t even figure out what was going through your head before you knew it was Bro. God. You definitely have problems. At least you know why you kissed Bro. Why the hell did he kiss you back? Was it just reflex, or something else?

You’re silent when you take your seat at the table, not even bothering to pretend to eat. You just watch him. Bro won’t even look at you, which just makes you feel awful, but he must notice you staring at him because it isn’t long before he’s standing to leave. You know better than to wait for an invitation. He’s left your ass before„ why test the boundaries when he’s in this mood? Yeah. You’re not that dumb. 

Bro is quiet and surly the whole way home, refusing to say a word to you. When you get back to the apartment he slams the door of the pick-up, storming inside. He’s pissed at you. That much you can tell. You sit on the steps of the apartment building, thinking to yourself. Something in him responded to your kiss, right? In some way, he wanted you. Maybe you just have to remind him why.

You grin and run inside. It’s time to plan. You grab your cash and decide to ask Bro for a lift tomorrow. It’s about time you did some shopping. You grin and stretch out on your bed, happy to wait until then. It’s only a night, after all.


	9. ==> Bro: Avoid Dave

Okay dude. What the fuck was that? It wasn't bad enough for you to jerk off in the shower about her? Now you have to corner her in a dark fucking hallway and practically force yourself on her? What the fuck is wrong with you? If she calls Social Services, it won't surprise you at all. You don't want to lose her. She's all the family you have. But you'll fucking deserve it if you do. What the fuck? Why did you even go down there? You don't even bother trying to convince yourself that you were checking on her. Truth is, you were hoping to freak her out. You were so fucking pissed at yourself for wanting her that you had tried to take it out on her, too. You definitely didn't expect her to kiss you, though. Then she froze when you kissed her back. It wasn't a kiss of attraction, you fucking moron. She was fucking relieved. You scared the shit out of her and she was just relieved that it was you. 

And you, you fucking retard, didn't even realise that she wasn't kissing you back until she'd completely frozen in place. Did you mention that you're a moron? You pulled away when you'd finally noticed, and walked back to the table without looking back at her. She joined you a minute or two later and all you could do was silently scream at yourself. You only stayed because she'd barely touched her food and you figured you should give her a chance to finish it. Not that she fucking did. She just sat there staring at you like you were a stranger. So you fucking left. You just stood and walked out.

Now what are you doing? Sitting here on the edge of your bed with your head in your hands. Hating yourself for taking advantage of Dave. You don't even know where she is right now. After you got home, you'd just taken off to hide in your bedroom. You don't think you can even look at her right now. She's probably hiding for you after that shit you pulled. Jesus christ. How can you ever look at her again? Seriously. 

You sigh and throw yourself back onto the bed. What is going on with you lately? It's like you've just hit puberty and everything has just gone wild. At least that would make a little sense to you. The problem is that you're a grown man. You shouldn't be attracted to a sixteen year old. Especially when that sixteen year old is your sister. Maybe you could take off for a while? Shit. No. Dave is old enough to look after herself, but you'd never leave her alone for any period of time. She's yours to protect. You have a lot of thinking to do tonight, but at least you shouldn't be distracted by Dave when you do it. Not with your plans to avoid her for the next week. You don't want to avoid her, but you know that you're going to. Otherwise you're going to send you both insane. 

You're peeking out your door to make sure Dave isn't around when a though occurs to you. Dave goes to school tomorrow. Six hours of peace from this awkward and fucking wrong attraction. You almost sigh in relief. Your day just started looking a whole lot better. You're even in a good mood when you sit down in front of your computer to work on your smuppet website. You tap away at the keyboard, sorting out finances as you sip your coffee. Humming, you shut down the computer and stretch, changing your pants and tugging off your shirt for bed. Tomorrow is going to be a great fucking day. 

“ _Bro.. Bro, get up.”_

One of your eyes opens and you wince at the harsh daylight filling your room. What the hell? You rub your head and sit up. First day that you have without her here to distract you and your mind throws those little reminders at you. Your legs swing over the side of your bed and you sit there for a moment, planning out your day. You'd planned to sleep a lot longer, but you need to take a leak anyway. 

“ _Bro. Jesus. Get the fuck up, you lazy prick”_

Wait. Shit. She can't still be here. She's at school. Why are you still hearing her voice? And why the hell is the sound turning you on? Fuck. You shift a little where you sit. Fuck. You have to get up. Out of habit, you fix your pants to hide the bulge, you stand up and make your way to the door of your bedroom. You're rubbing your eyes and telling yourself to stop imagining her voice when you open the door. Holy shit. She's here. Right in front of you. Why the fuck is she here? You blink at her, dumbfounded. God damn it! Your pants are getting uncomfortable and you hope to god that she doesn't look any lower than your chest. You may have fixed your pants, but your erection is still there. You're kind of leaning on the half open door to hide hide it, your lanky body hunching a little, making it look like you need all the support the door will offer you.  

She just stares at you for a while, looking up into your face. Shit. You forgot to put your shades on. You must look uneasy because she's clearing her throat and heading to the kitchen. What the actual fuck? Your morning could not get any weirder. You shake your head and go to the bathroom, heading to the kitchen afterward in just your pj pants. She's waiting for you there, holding a cup of coffee. Well shit. You did raise her well. You take the cup and hug her to your side quickly, before you can even stop yourself.  

“Mm. Thanks, princess. Why the fuck are you home, anyway?”

She looks at you like the answer should be obvious. Her face dead-pans and she blinks slowly, as if she's just realized that she's dealing with the dumbest person on earth. She stares at you for a while, probably expecting you to answer your own question. All that she's managing to do though, is make you notice her. The way her shirt shows her still healing bruises. The way her jeans hug her hips perfectly. God. You need to stop looking at her. Your head dips and you sip your coffee in an attempt to distract yourself from her.  

“I slept in.” She shrugs. She slept in? Seriously? “Listen, could you give me a lift? I wanna do some shopping. You know, since I'm not at school anyway?”

Well. So much for your day alone. Looks like you're spending the day with Dave after all. Fuck. You hope to god that she doesn't want to go underwear shopping. That's something you definitely can't handle. Problem is, you know there'll be hell to pay if you don't take her. You sigh and nod your agreement to her request, taking your coffee back to your room to get ready. Hell. This girl is going to drive you insane. You really should have known when she handed you the coffee. Dave never does anything unless she wants something.  

You grab your keys and wallet and call out to let Dave know that it's time to go. No response. Well, you'll give her five minutes to finish getting ready and get her ass in the car, then the deal is off. You grin at the slight possibility that you could shut yourself in your room, and make your way down to the truck. Shit. She's sitting in the passenger seat of the pick-up. Hell. You're definitely not getting your day off. And what the hell is she wearing? She didn't change at all. The singlet hugs her curves so well. Her cleavage is practically screaming for attention. Oh fuck. You slide in beside her and start the truck, ignoring the desire coursing through your veins.  

“So, Dave. Where we headed?”

She rambles about the store she wants to go to, and wow. It doesn't sound like a store she would normally go to. Isn't Dave a 'jeans and top' kinda girl? Not that you'd complain if she was to walk around the apartment in a tiny, well fitting skirt. Whoa. Jesus. You really need to stop thinking about your sister like that. It's really getting out of control. You even have to shift in your seat to ease the sudden pressure building in your pants.  

After a lot of her rambling and you trying to ignore your brain, you manage to find the place and park outside. You're just about to grab your phone when she turns to you. You blink in her direction with your hand still on your phone. Wait. No. _Hell no._ She's looking at you like she's expecting you to come in. You shake your head, which only makes her pout. She fucking _pouts_.  

Fuck. You've never been able to resist giving her whatever she wants when she looks at you like that, but today you can either do what she wants, or jerk off in the car while she shops. Shit. You grumble and put your phone in your pocket. Looks like you're going shopping. You lock up the truck and follow her into the store. Oh, thank fuck. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. No underwear in sight. Dave immediately heads toward the skirts, bypassing everything else. Even the jeans. Hey, what d'ya know? They actually do sell jeans. Strangely, Dave seems to ignore them completely. What is going on?

She directs you to the waiting area and leaves you there, taking her time picking things to try on. God. Do girls always take this long when they go shopping? This is the most boring thing you've ever had to do. Shopping is pretty much your least favourite thing right now. In fact, you hate it.  

Well, you hate it right up until you see her coming out of the changing room. She's in the shortest skirt you have ever seen and yeah, your little daydream doesn't do her justice. The white singlet she was wearing is still on, topped off this time with a bright red miniskirt. It's confirmed. Red is definitely your favourite colour now. Her shoes should look out of place and awkward, but on her they just complete the outfit. You think your jaw might actually drop when you see her. She spins for you and oh hell. That skirt is fucking short.  

You're staring.  

You clear your throat and shake your head. No way is she wearing that anywhere. She just grins at you when you say that though, and skips back into the changing room. She makes you sit through about 10 changes, each one shorter or more revealing than the last. Shopping might just be your favourite pass time. When she finally gives up, she's got five complete outfits and two pairs of high heels.  

She's quiet on the way home and you're tempted to ask if there's a guy in her life. Why else would she be giving herself a makeover? The only thing she hasn't bought is make-up. Thank fuck. She doesn't need to do anything to make herself more attractive. She knows that, right? Hell.  

“Dave. Look... Shit, how do I even.. Whatever.” She looks at you blankly, you can see her from the corner of your eye. Damn it. This is not going well.  

“You don't have to do all this to impress some guy, y'know. You're gorgeous and smart and any guy would be dumb to ignore that.”

She doesn't say anything, but she grins up at you, her face lit up from it. God. She's stunning when she smiles. Your mind wanders and you find yourself wondering what it would be like if she wanted you back. Would you go through with it? Fuck. No. Stop thinking about it. You are so fucking screwed up. Why would you even torture yourself with the possibility of having Dave?

She's sitting beside you, clutching her purchases, still beaming at you about what you'd said. When you get home, she runs upstairs before you can even lock the truck. Fucking teenagers. You chuckle and make your way inside, dropping your keeps on the cabinet beside the door.  

“Thanks for the lift, Bro. I appreciate it. You're the best bro a girl could even ask for. Good looking, too. Sexiest Bro to ever exist.” Your voice was high as you spoke, imitating Dave as best you could.

She rolls her eyes at you when you're finished your sarcastic little rant and comes to kiss your cheek.

“Thanks Bro. I love you.”


	10. ==> Dave: School

It's been almost a week since you went shopping with Bro. Your clothes are still where you put them when you got home. You haven't quite worked up the courage to wear them yet. Or you haven't had a reason to wear them. Maybe it was a bad idea to drag Bro shopping in the first place. The clothes tempt you daily and hey. Maybe it's time to give them a test run before the weekend. Actually, yeah. You will. It's time to put the jeans away and see how you feel in a skirt. You grab your favourite top, a black tank, and the red miniskirt you'd tried on. Once you're comfortable in your outfit, you stand in front of the mirror and do your hair, pulling it into a loose pigtail on either side of your head. Nodding at your own reflection, you pull on your sneakers, not caring about the heels you'd bought. You're not that dumb. You need a lot more practice before you're ready to wear your heels for longer than twenty minutes. 

Dressed, you grab your backpack and head out, leaving a note for Bro to let him know you'd gone. By now, he'd be used to you going to school, but you still leave him the note. It's become habit. You haven't really seen much of him since your shopping trip, only really crossing paths after you got home from school. The little notes you left him were the only real interaction you had with him. And yet, you still couldn't shake the desire you felt every time you heard his name. Even now, you're walking to school and you can't get the thought of Bro out of your head. The skirt you're wearing is actually really comfortable, fitting you well enough that it doesn't ride up your thighs as you walk. 

You go about your normal day at school, spending time with a couple of guys that you'd never spoken to before. Looks like the skirt is a hit with the male population. You can't help but enjoy the attention that your new outfit has gotten you, even when you remember what Bro said about you being gorgeous all on your own. You grin every time you think about it. Even during class, you can't help but daydream, wondering how he'll react to your outfit when you get home. The time is moving so slowly. You can't bare it. It's last period and you can't concentrate. You can barely hear what is being said in the classroom. 

When the torture finally ends, you take your time walking home, trying to clear your head in the process. You get home about fifteen minutes later than usual, letting yourself in and heading to the kitchen. Your bag gets dropped in the doorway of the kitchen and you pour yourself some apple juice. For the first time all week, Bro isn't in the kitchen when you get home. You put down your drink and walk through the house. It doesn't look like he's home at all. That's weird. Shrugging, you head back to the kitchen and grab your glass again. On the counter is a note that you hadn't noticed before. You lean over the counter while you read the note, shifting your weight from leg to leg as you do. 

You're about halfway through the note when a noise behind you makes you jump, and ow. Your head collides with the cabinets above you, making you yelp in pain. You turn, holding your head, looking around for what had made the noise. This doesn't seem to be very difficult to find. Bro is standing in the doorway, a strange look on his face. He arches a brow (you can see it above is awesome anime shades) and you look down. Oops. He's kicked your backpack across the floor and it's laying at your feet now. 

“Oh, shit. Sorry Bro. I completely forgot I left it there. See, I got distracted by this note you -”

“What the hell are you wearing, Dave? Please, in the name of all things fucking holy, tell me you didn't go to school dressed like that.”

Wait. What?

He's upset about your clothes? Didn't he like them? Oh hell. You screwed up big time. Instead of listening to him, you figured you'd read between the lines and you got it so wrong. You can feel your face heating up with embarrassment. You bend down to grab your backpack then shove past him to go to your room. A gloved hand grabs your arm and you wince. He looks pissed and he definitely wants an answer from you. You bite your lip and take a deep breath, lifting your head stubbornly. 

“I'm wearing the skirt you helped me pick out, remember? They've been sitting in my wardrobe for a week, Bro. I figured it was about time they got used. What? Did you change your mind about liking it?”

You see him clench his jaw and you know you've gone too far. You know better than to push Bro. Especially when he's pissed off. His grip tightens for a moment and your pulse quickens. No smart-arsed comment ever goes unpunished in the Strider house. What the hell is he going to do in response to your little outbreak? You've managed to avoid strifing with him all week. He probably won't put up with your bullshit excuses this time. 

You try to pull your arm from his grip, but the guy is fucking strong. He holds you in place, only allowing you to move when he pulls you closer. His jaw is still clenched, the muscle pulsing there like he's getting angrier with everything that happens. He's pulled you against him and you're not sure what to expect. Your body is pressing into his and you're actually getting turned on by this. You are so damaged. You don't even catch yourself lifting to your toes. Not until his head starts to lower to yours. 

His lips are hard and unforgiving when they meet yours, pressing hard against you, pent up anger being let out with each movement of his lips. Your movements are clumsy compared to his experienced kiss. His hand moves to cup your lower back, just above the top of your skirt. Your lips hungrily part against his, coaxing his into softening as he dominates the deeper kiss. You don't dare move your hands like you want you. If you did that, you might break what ever spell is in place right now. 

He's pulling away from you. Why? Did you do something wrong? You're about to ask when he growls in your ear. You shudder, the gravel in his voice sending tingles down your spine. Your fingers curl into the material of his shirt and he pushes you backward. Your back hits the wall and you watch him tug at his hair in frustration. He comes closer, crowding you against the wall. His lips lower again, just inches from yours, his gloved hands coming to rest on your lips as he holds you in place with his stare. Your breathing wavers and his head moves lower again. Just before his lips reclaim yours, you hear him growl again.

“You won't wear those fucking skirts to school again. Got that, Dave?”

You're still nodding when his weight crushes you against the wall. Your hand doesn't hesitate this time. You lift it and bury your fingers into his blonde hair. His hair is stiff under your touch, hardened by his styling products. You're panting and his hand pulls your top up, his fingers dancing over your quivering stomach. His hand moves up and you whimper when his thumb grazes over your nipple. The friction of his thumb moving over your bra, his hot breath washing over your face. You've wanted this for so long. His hand moves down to your hip and he pulls you against him again. His body is pushed tight to yours. Something hard is pushing into your stomach. His belt buckle, you figure. It causes something inside you to react, though. A moan escapes you. You don't mean to let it out, but you do. His eyes widen and his fingers dig deeper into your hips. Ouch. That hurts. You wince and look up at him. His eyes look tortured as they search yours. 

He lets go suddenly and turns away, leaving you feeling cold and neglected. You hate him. You fucking hate him. You take off to your bedroom, flash stepping away like he taught you. Anything so that he won't see your tears. This means war. It's time for you to get a little payback.  


	11. ==> Bro: Go home

Days in the Strider house are boring as hell when you're home alone. You slept until about lunchtime, then decided to go out for a while. You picked up a new phone for Dave (that you're going to upgrade of course) and spent some time at the record store. You weren't sure how long you'd be, so you left a note for Dave if she got home before you did. 

The door is unlocked when you get home and you let yourself in. You go through the motions of putting your things away before making your way to the kitchen. Even if she isn't there, that's where the coffee is. The first thing you notice is her backpack laying right in the doorway. Fucking teenagers. You kick the bag in her direction and look up at her. _What the fuck?_ She's leaning over the counter, her ass poking out and wiggling in your direction. She's wearing that skirt. The red one. Your eyes are glued to the scrap of bright material covering her ass. You clear your throat and see her head snap upwards, hitting the cupboard above her. She spins, her uncovered eyes settling on you as she rubs her head. Your eyes follow the movement of her hand and wow. Seriously? Her hair is up in pigtails and she looks like a tempting mix of innocence and experience. You wonder vaguely if she dressed like this for you. Wait. No. She just got home from school. Oh, hell no. The thought that she might have dressed like that for someone else, that other people might have seen her like this...  

She's saying something but you don't hear her. You're too pissed by the thought that someone saw what wasn't theirs to see. You interrupt her, almost begging her to say that she wore it just for you. She tries to push past you but you grab her arm. Your jaw clenches tight when she throws your lust back in your face. She's right, and that just pisses you off. You have no idea what's gotten into you, but you take action, not thinking or trying to stop yourself. You pull her closer to you, angry at yourself for what you're about to do; angry at her for what she's putting you through.  

Your lips press down hard on hers. Harder than you'd intended. Your kiss is harsh but you feel her responding. _Why the hell is she responding?_ Her lips are so soft. She's sloppy, unsure of what to do. You slow down, dominating the kiss, teaching her. If you didn't know better, you'd think this was her first kiss. Wait. It isn't her first kiss, is it? Shit. You pull away from her, look her over. You are the worst fucking brother in the world. You make her promise to never wear that to school again, like that will suddenly fix everything that's wrong with you.  

You're on her again before she's even finished nodding. Somehow she's ended up against the wall. You're pushing her back against it and pulling her into your body at the same time. Your erection presses against her and she's moaning. Never in your life have you heard a sweeter sound. Her hands tug at your hair and you don't think she even realizes what she's doing. God. What are _you_ doing? Pushing your sister against a wall, shoving your tongue in her mouth? You pull away from her, disgusted with yourself.  

When you turn back to talk to her, to explain, she's gone. Her bedroom door slams shut and you sigh. You need some definite damage control right now. Your hands tug at your hair and you look around the room, at a loss for what to do. Her bag is still sitting in the middle of the room. At least you have a reason to go see her, you guess. You grab the bag, stopping by your room to grab the phone you'd bought her.  

Taking a deep breath, you knock on her door, letting yourself in before she can send you away. She's curled up on her bed and your stomach drops at the thought that you did this to her. You sit on the side of her bed, putting the bag on the floor and handing her the new phone as you speak.  

“Here, princess. I bought this for you. I still have to upgrade it, but you said yours was being weird, so I figured you might appreciate this. Look, you gotta know that I feel fucking awful about what happened. I shouldn't have done any of that. I've been trying to avoid .. I've .. Point is, I totally understand if you wanna go hang at a friends place for a while. This.. What I did. It's unacceptable. I'll keep my hands to myself. Promise.” You pat her leg awkwardly and get up to leave, standing outside the door after closing it behind you.  

You leave Daves room feeling pretty proud of yourself. Yeah, you're embarrassed and you hate that you had to tell her all that, but at least you gave her the truth. You didn't pussy out this time. Mostly. That's something to be proud of, right? Hell. You don't even know any more. You're standing outside her room, lost in thought when she barrels into you. Fuck. You didn't even hear her coming.  

You spin around to face her, wondering if she's already decided to move out or stay with a friend. Instead of saying anything, she wraps her arms around your middle and squeezes you tightly. Your cock twitches and sweet Jesus that's painful. You whisper again that you're sorry and she reaches up to remove your shades. You're both standing there, staring into the naked eyes of the other and for the first time, you feel okay about not wearing your shades. Dave is with you, and everything is going to be fine. Her next actions confirm that. She reaches up and runs her hand along your face, smiling at you. You can tell she was crying. Her eyes are the most beautiful shade of red, and her face is tear streaked. You start to say something but she cuts you off, talking over anything you were about to say.  

“Bro. You're not the only confused one. You think I know what to do with this attraction? I try not to think about you, but I can't help it. What's so wrong about it, anyway?”

It's official. Dave is definitely going to drive you crazy.  


	12. ==> Dave: Tease Bro

Did you and Bro seriously just have that conversation? Is that a thing that just happened? Your body is trembling with excited at the thought of what might follow. You stand there, watching him in charged silence. Your eyes meet, and you can see his jaw clench. He's tense and you really want to throw your arms in the air and dance with joy. You're about to step toward him and show him that you feel the same way when he flash-steps back to his room. Jesus fucking Christ. You stomp back to your room, pissed that he could tell you all that and still try to avoid you. What a jerk. He's really going to regret that. Your door slams behind you and you search through the clothes you bought the other day. 

You pull out one of the dresses, but it doesn't look right. Fuck. What you need is something that will really catch his eye. You groan when you realise what you need. How could you have missed it? Idiot. You practically skip to the bathroom, no real goal in mind. Well. That's not exactly true. Bro is due to shower shortly and you want more contact. You hear him walking toward the bathroom and you wait by the door, deliberately rubbing against him when you leave. You think you hear him suck in a breath, but you can't be sure. Yeah. You totally need to step up your game. The bathroom door closes but you don't hear the lock. Actually, you've never heard him lock the door. Interesting. 

You keep checking down the hallway as you sneak into his bedroom. Knowing exactly what you want, you don't linger. You grab his favourite shirt from his closet and dash back to your bedroom. This may just get you killed. Totally worth it though. You chuckle and hide it under your pillow. This is definitely the best idea you've ever had. 

So far, so good. 

You're sitting on the couch, eating the Chinese he bought for dinner, Bro is sulking in his room. Avoiding you, probably. His shirt is still sitting safely in your room, and you're itching for time to move faster. You finish eating and look at the time. Shit. Still early. Oh well. You can't wait much longer for this. You'll go insane. You open Bros door and plop down on his bed. His body stiffens and he turns to face you. He looks exhausted. 

“Don't worry, Bro. I'm not here to piss you off or corrupt you.” You can't help but chuckle a little at the thought of you being able to corrupt him. “I just figured I'd let you know that I'm not feeling too well, so I'm gonna take a shower and head to bed. Sweet dreams Bro. Love you.”

You get up and leave before he can respond, grabbing your towel and clothes, then shutting yourself in the bathroom. You take your time getting dressed after your shower, sliding into Bros shirt and a pair of lacy panties. You smirk at your reflection, loving the feeling of his shirt on your bare skin. You sneak out into the the hallway. Being seen now could ruin the plan completely. You dive into your room and close the door, climbing under the covers on your bed. 

It's light when you wake up and it takes a minute for you to actually get out of bed. You've never been much of a morning person. You rub your eyes and lazily head out to the kitchen. No wonder Bro drinks coffee. You open the fridge and do your best to keep the shitty swords in there while grabbing the apple juice. You never did figure out why the swords are in the fridge, but there's probably a reason. So that's what you're doing when Bro finds you. Bent over at the fridge, struggling with its contents, his shirt barely covering you. 

Shit.

Yeah. You actually wore his shirt to bed. You'd completely forgotten about that. You freeze where you are and the swords clatter to the ground. Fuck. If he hadn't noticed you before, he definitely has now. Maybe this wasn't your best plan. You slowly straighten, his shirt falling to the top of your thighs with the action. Holding your breath, you turn to look at him, waiting. His pupils almost swallow his irises before they shrink back to normal. He's staring at you and you can't tell if that's a good thing. 

His throat moves when he swallows, hands clenching at his side when he starts toward you. You're frozen to the spot, apple juice caught in a death grip. The room is overtaken by silence, neither of you saying anything. You have no idea what to expect, his face isn't giving any clues. He's right against you now, you haven't moved at all. His hand is on your – _his_ – shirt and he's watching you. He moistens his lip with the tip of his tongue and lifts your shirt. Wait. What? His eyes are flicking over your face and he's biting his lip. The shirt is above your navel when you snap out of your daze and really look at him. He seems to examine your face for a moment before pulling the shirt from your body. 

“..Dave..”  


	13. ==> Bro: Give in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pure smut

“..Dave..”

Wait. Is that your voice? You barely recognise it. Your fingers are trailing over her body and for once, you can't come up with a single reason why you should care. She shivers at your touch and you keep your eyes on her face, searching for a sign that she doesn't want this. Her body is leaning toward yours and you let your gaze drop, taking in the naked curves of her body. Her panties are the only things left on her, teasing you. She'd looked so perfect wearing your shirt. You almost hated to take it off her. Almost. 

She leans against you, her slight frame soft against your bare chest. Thank fuck you never wear a shirt to bed. You gently take the bottle from her hand and put it on the bench beside her. Your body crowds hers, directing her backward until she hits the table. She lifts herself up, sitting on it, and hey. You've found a use for the neglected kitchen table. Your hands grasp at her panties and tug them from her body. You spread her legs and stand between them, her hands grab the waistband of your pyjama pants and pull you closer. She's looking up at you, her eyes tempting you more than her nakedness. Her fingers slide under the band of your pants slowly and you move back slightly to help her remove your clothing. She's inexperienced and guilt pangs through you. Are you seriously about to do this? You must freeze for a moment because she's pulling your pants off and wriggling on the table. 

You look down at her and your cock twitches. Your hand moves between her legs, moving gently toward her centre. Her breath hitches when your thumb brushes her clit, her stomach tensing at the touch. Your lips descend on hers and your fingers move over her more deliberately. She jumps a little, when you ease a finger inside her. God. She's so tight. Her legs widen and you don't think she even notices it. A soft moan passes her lips as she adjusts to the feeling of your finger. You ease another in and begin to move, curling them inside her and softly circling her clit with your thumb again.

You can feel her responding to you. She's wriggling on the table, moaning, and you can feel her tightening around you. Her nails dig into your shoulder and she's pulling you down to her level. She's so small in your arms and you groan against her neck. You suck hard on the skin there as she reaches her climax, leaving a dark purple mark when you lift your head. She's panting and your cock is so hard that it hurts. Your fingers slow their movements and she looks up at you. God. Those eyes. You pull her to the edge of the table, her legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you into the core of her. Biting your lip, you guide yourself to her entrance. 

She nods up at you and squeezes her legs tightly around your waist. You couldn't stop yourself even if you wanted to. You hold her tightly, offering silent comfort as you thrust forward, burying yourself deep inside her. Her nails move to dig into your chest, blood prickling at each point of contact. She cries out at the action, unused to the sensation. You still yourself, letting her get used to you. It's not long before she's moving again, experimenting with different angles and actions. She's moving her hips and her tightness moves over your length. You gently push your hips forward and she gasps. Her lips part on a moan and she really is the most beautiful person you've ever seen. 

Your hips thrust, slowly at first, gaining speed as she begins to meet each of your movements. Her legs hold you against her as you pull her harder onto your length. You bite your lip as her inner walls clench down on you again. Have you ever felt anything like this? She bites your chest as another climax grips her and you press your thumb on her clit, letting her ride out her orgasm for as long as possible. She's panting again and, God. You need to get off. You should have thought this through. 

She's leaning back, sated, while you fight with yourself. You tear yourself away from her, your cock throbbing at the sensation. Her hands brush the head of your cock and you groan through clenched teeth. You grip yourself and stroke, pumping your hand over your length gently. Leaning down, you crush your lips to hers, moving your hand twice more before you spill your seed on her stomach, branding her with your essence. You're panting along with her and you stay where you are, clouded in the euphoric afterglow. She sighs and you kiss her neck before you get up. Dave is still laying on the table, looking up at you, her eyes full of something you don't want to analyse.

What the hell did you just do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 13.5 [==> Dave: Aftermath](http://nopethefuckout.tumblr.com/post/60266326434/dave-aftermath)


	14. ==> Bro: Take the high road?

It's been three days since you left Dave in the kitchen and you still can't stand the sight of yourself. You've spent pretty much all that time avoiding her, which by the way, isn't all that easy. Over the weekend, she was everywhere and it drove you insane. At least she went back to school on Monday, making your life a little easier during that time. You'd leave any room that she was in, just to avoid dealing with the damage you'd no doubt caused. The worst part was the same day, though. You'd gone out to the kitchen, only to find her clothes still strewn around the room where you'd thrown them. Fuck. You really messed up and there is no way you'll ever be able to look at her the same way again. You'd picked them up at the time, but you still haven't been able to give them back. Something in your mind won't let you. Like, if you give them back, you won't have anything to remember your time with her. It's irrational and you don't understand it, but that's how you feel. The problem is, the more you think about it, the worse you feel about being turned on. Yeah. It still turns you on, and you still touch yourself to the thought of it. You're sick. There's seriously something wrong with you. 

  


You haven't worn the shirt since she did, and you'll never see it as yours again. Not after seeing it on Dave. It's crumpled in your hand at the moment, bundled with her panties and you're swearing at yourself, even as your hand moves. It's wrong and you hate yourself more every time you do it, but you can't bring yourself to stop. After you and Dave... Every glance at her just turns you on and you don't know how to make it end. Even when you can't see her, your brain throws images at you, teasing you. You haven't even allowed yourself to be near her for longer than a minute in fear that you'll find yourself in a replay of what happened. Your hand moves faster over your dick at the thought and a moan joins your already heavy breathing. You've never wanted anything like you want her. Under you, riding you, in your bed. She's the hell that tempts you daily, tortures you with the things you can't have; the heaven that you can never have again and she just gets sweeter the longer you deny yourself the pleasure of sinking between her legs. You groan at the memory, your hand moving faster as your pulse races. The sensation builds up and your eyes close tightly. You squeeze the clothes in your other hand as you release, spilling onto your thighs and stomach.   


  


  


Regret floods you as you clean yourself up. It's nothing unusual for you lately. You're in a constant state of guilt and regret for the things you do. You toss the clothes onto your desk and walk over to throw yourself onto the bed. Exhaustion takes over and you can feel yourself floating into the sweet embrace of sleep and the safety of your dreams. 

  


***

  


Your eyes open at the sudden depression in your bed. You didn't even hear your door open. Groaning, you sit up and check the clock. Six am? Since when is there a six in the morning? You fall back onto the mattress and almost tell her to get out, but she's curled up on the edge of your bed. A small smile crosses your face and you roll onto your side. You don't even question it when you pull her closer and she curls around you. Her body heat engulfs you and you've never felt more at home than you do in this moment. She moves closer to you and your arm curves around her, holding her beside you. Your eyes close and you're not sure if she's asleep or awake, so you lay silently, holding her like it can fix everything you've done. You're drifting off to sleep again when her voice washes over you like soft kisses. 

  


  


"I love you, Bro."

  


  


You're not even sure if she said it or if you imagined it, but your heart springs into motion. You squeeze her gently, a sleepy smile set on your face as you bask in the joy her words bring you. Shifting slightly, you place a soft kiss to the top of her head and murmur into her hair. 

  


  


  
"I love you too, Dave"    



	15. ==> Dave: Be the bigger man. In a manner of speaking

Your eyes open as light filters through the window. Oh fuck. Yeah. You slept in Bros bed last night. What would you have done if he'd sent you away? Probably gone to sulk in your bedroom like you've been doing for the past three days. Not like the cool Strider you present to the rest of the world. Who knew being rejected by your brother after sex would affect you so much? You don't move from your place, laying in the safety of his arms. Because, honestly, who knows how he'll react to you in his bed? Actually, you should probably leave before he does wake up to find you here. You start to roll over and his arm tightens around you, pulling you against him.

 

“Where you goin' Dave?”

 

His voice is mumbled and his words are slurred and fragmented. You must have woken him when you moved. Your body stiffens as you lay there, not sure what to do. It's only when his arm loosens that you relax into his embrace. You move closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. Being accepted with him like this is pretty much a dream come true. He leans down and nuzzles your hair, and you can't help but smile. This is definitely a step in the right direction. The two of you lay there in silence, simply holding each other until you can't handle it any more. Your head tilts up so that you can look at him and you instantly wish he was wearing his shades so that you could talk a little more freely.

 

“Bro...” You start, not knowing exactly where you wanted this to lead, but needing to break the silence. “I'm not sorry. Y'know.. About what happened between us the other day. I really do love you, Bro. Not the way I'm supposed to. I've tried to, but I can't stop and I'm not sorry.”

 

You can feel him tense beneath you, obviously not expecting you to say that. There's also the slight feeling that he hoped you would forget about it. You doubt you could ever forget it. It was what you'd always wanted. You sink into silence, awkwardly laying at his side. It's not the first time you've had to fight back tears in the last three days. Or is it four now? Not like it matters now. It's just a memory for you to treasure as you live with your hundred cats. 'Cause yeah, you were right. No one will ever compare to him.

 

You sigh and pull yourself from his arms, turning your back on him to leave. It breaks your heart when he doesn't resist. The tears you've been fighting break free as you reach the kitchen. You flick on the coffee maker and stand at the sink, your hands gripping the edges as you hang your head. Your tears land softly on the metal and the only other thing you can hear are your hitched sobs. Real fucking cool, Dave. Could you get more lame? Crying over some guy. But he's not just a guy, is he? He's Bro. He's your brother, your father, and the guy you've loved all your life.

 

The coffee's ready and you forego your usual apple juice, needing something a little stronger. You wipe your eyes and pour the drink, holding it to your lips but not moving to take a sip. You're not even sure how long you stay there, zoned out until you feel another tear slide down your face. You might as well get used to this feeling, Dave.

 

You take a sip of the coffee and, oh hell. That is the worst shit you've ever tasted. The cup somehow finds its way to the counter, miraculously not spilling, before you go to spit out the foul liquid. You hear a chuckle from behind you and and wipe your eyes quickly. Last thing you want is for Bro to see you like this. You don't even turn to look at him, talking with your back to him just to avoid showing your tear streaked face.

 

“What do you want, Bro?”

 

He's still chuckling as he takes your discarded coffee and swallows half the cup in one mouthful.

 

“Well, you've taken care of one of my needs.”

 

He sighs as he sets the cup aside. Did you hear that right? Did he really just sigh? It's silent for a while and you assume he's left the room. You slouch in relief for a moment before strong arms wrap around your middle. What the hell? You stay perfectly still, waiting for whatever he has to say.

 

“Dave. I love you too. I'm sorry about what happened. I've ruined your life but I couldn't stop myself. I still can't. I can't even bare the thought of you being with anyone else.”

 

Well.. Shit. If you expected him to say anything, it wasn't that. You turn to face him, pressing yourself against him in his arms. 

 

“Bro, I've only ever wanted you. Don't you see that? I'm yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Send me prompts at nopethefuckout.tumblr.com


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